Oil Reflection
by ginaandrobbie
Summary: OQ AU based on prompt: Your soulmate was an artist of centuries ago, and you're currently an art student at university (or not but you're taking an arts class). Then, one day, you go to a far-away museum and you find yourself staring at what was your reflection, wearing different clothes to fit the timeline but it was definitely a split-image of you, on one of the framed displays
1. Prologue

Inspiration was lacking lately, just when she needed it most, obviously. She didn't know what she should do for her final project. She had to outdo herself, give all she had, but Regina always ended up ripping apart the canvas she made an attempt on. She usually let the colors and mediums call for her, used her instinct and poured her mind on the blank surface. But nothing good came out of it this time. Stress was slowly claiming her, but anger was definitely expressing itself easily.

She kept trying, but she kept failing. Nothing she produced please her enough to make it her final project. Regina decided she needed to try something new. After a few researches, she found a small art gallery in Storybrooke, a rather secluded town a few miles away from the Art Institute of Boston. After noting the address, she jumped in her car with her sketchpad and pencils, ready to find creativity somewhere outside of Boston.

The city's silhouette gradually transformed into a more natural landscape, until only trees surrounded her. Once she arrived in the small town, she had a hard time finding the gallery and she cursed when she realized she passed in front of it not once, but twice. She got out of her car, sketchpad in hand, and took a deep breath as she looked around. This place seemed oddly familiar, and, for some reason, she liked the vibe of it although she never really considered living in a small town. This one had something more to it, but she couldn't quite put her finger on what was different. Maybe it was its stuck in time aspect, or maybe she just needed to get away from Boston a little bit.

Unusual feelings: whatever they were, they could probably help her find inspiration, right?

With determination and her head held high, Regina walked in the gallery, her black boots clicking on the pale wooden floor. She took a deep breath and turned on her left to start observing the framed artworks. She scrutinized the painting, took notes, drew a few things here and there on her sketchpad to try to spark some ideas up.

The gallery was small, but there was no other visitor and the paintings displayed were amazing. She enjoyed discovering underground artists of all eras, although this time, she particularly appreciated the work of an early 1900′s artist. The color study was amazing and the brush strokes were flawless. Nature was a recurring theme amongst his pieces, but there also was a faceless woman coming back in most of his oil paintings. She felt as if he was trying to tell a story that was haunting him, and she thought that it was the exact feeling she was looking to give to her final project.

She continued to walk around, trying to take in as many details as she could. As she walked towards the next framed painting, she was sketching something on a previously blank page, so she couldn't anticipate what she was about to see. When she looked up, her eyes widened and her pencil stopped moving when she discovered the identity of the mysterious woman seen in the preceding depictions.

She was speechless, standing in the middle of this wide room, in front of her reflection. She forgot to breathe as she saw a perfect replica of herself facing her. It wasn't just some likeliness: it's was a carbon copy of herself. From her eye color to her cheekbones to the shape of her lips and even to her nose: everything was the same. But the most troubling detail was the scar on her upper lip depicted with delicacy.

After a few seconds, she gulped and took a step closer. Regina frowned as she observed the details of the long sleeved emerald dress in which she was dressed in. The lace fabric was barely shown since she was standing sideways and only a part of her upper arm was visible. It was different from the previous works she saw from the same artist: no forest, no lake, no landscape. Just a black background in which her chocolate hair seemed to get a part of its shading from.

She looked in the dark brown eyes in front of her and she had the impression she was standing in front of a picture of herself. Everything was the same and the only thing that was different was the old fashioned dress. How could this woman have the same scar as her? How could she be her?

Regina looked at the informations under the frame and her breath caught in her throat once more.

"Locksley, Robin

 _My Muse_

May 1902

Oil paint on canvas"

Regina came to Storybrooke to find inspiration, but now, she had a mission: she had to discover who this Robin Locksley was.


	2. Chapter 1

Speechless, she stood there for a while before leaving the gallery without giving a single glance at the artworks she still hadn't appreciated. How was this possible? Who was this man? Surely he must be dead by now, but that did not mean she couldn't find answers to her questions. The problem was: where could she start looking?

She looked around the quiet streets and spotted what seemed to be a small dinner and a bed and breakfast. _Might as well start there_ , she thought. _Since it's a small town, everyone must know everyone_.

With that, Regina walked into the small dinner and looked around, thinking her choice might have been biased by her empty stomach. She went to sit at the counter and ordered a salad, not failing to notice the strange looks the old woman gave her ever since she walked in.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" The white haired lady asked her when she brought Regina's meal. The client was surprised by such bluntness.

"My name's Regina and I came here to eat, although I thought that was rather obvious," She answered with raised eyebrows and she took a sip of water.

The woman – Regina assumed she was the owner of the place, Granny – gave her an unamused look. "No one new ever comes here, dear," The cook informed her.

Regina narrowed her eyes and shrugged before speaking. "Well, I'm not no one and I'm here," She replied, thinking the woman's previous statement was fairly weird.

The lady put her hand on her hip and raised her eyebrows at the new customer, rather unimpressed. The art student sighed and picked at her salad with her fork before answering seriously this time, "I just wanted to see the art gallery and I thought I'd stop for a snack before heading back to Boston."

Granny seemed unconvinced, but still more satisfied than the previous answers she got. "Whatever, it's just unusual to see new faces around here," She grumbled before walking away to let the woman eat. Regina wasn't finished talking to the cook however.

"At the gallery, the paintings of a certain artist caught my attention and I was wondering where I could find more information about him. Do you know anything about a certain Robin Locksley?" Regina asked casually before taking a bite of her food.

The older woman turned around and raised her eyebrows when she heard the customer speak, giving her a smirk. "Oh, Robin's a really nice man, both inside and out, if you know what I mean," She first said and Regina frowned at the beginning of the answer.

"Wait," Regina stopped the woman before she could continue, "you mean he's not dead?" she asked incredulously.

"Dead?" The woman repeated. "He's everything but dead, dear. He's still breathing, still painting and still comes here every day at opening for his morning breakfast and coffee. He's quite the mysterious man I have to say, but his talent is undeniable. He's the one who did that painting behind you," She went on and then nodded towards the wall, making Regina turn on her stool and see a painting of a bridge above a small river in the middle of the forest.

"Where's that?" Regina asked curiously as she observed the painting from the counter.

"That's on his land, North of the town, a few miles away from the road. Pretty nice place, if you ask me," Granny answered, also looking at the framed canvas.

"North, you say?" The customer asked, looking at the woman again, who then nodded to answer the question. "And how do you get there exactly?" Regina continued, feeling a knot forming in her stomach at the thought she might meet the creator of her painted twin, although that seemed completely impossible.

###

Unlike the art gallery, she had no difficulty to find the man's cottage. Farther away than most houses and secluded behind trees, she had to turn right when she saw the mailbox that marked 1902 and drive on a trail for at least a good minute before finally seeing a small white house with a green door and matching shutters made out of wood. A lake peeked from behind and Regina spotted a small red boat she recognized from one of the paintings she saw earlier. The landscape was amazing, there was no doubt about that, and she could definitely see why an artist would live here.

This place once again seemed oddly familiar. Regina's heart was practically beating out of her chest. Surely the man living here was Robin Locksley, second or third of his name or something, the grandson of the one who made all these beautiful creations that left her speechless. Still, he could have some answers to her many questions.

Finally, she managed to get out of her car with her courage, apprehension and curiosity in hand. As she closed the driver's door, the front door of the house opened and a blonde man appeared outside. He was wearing a loose white shirt with short sleeves and a pair of brown pants, both pieces of cloth slightly stained from time and paint. Even from the distance that separated them, Regina noticed how blue his irises were, but when they locked eyes, she discovered how intense his gaze was and she suddenly lost her breath.

Something happened, something she had absolutely no control over nor any idea as to what it was, but she was certain she had never experienced this sensation before. All her weight seemed to have left her body, transforming her only into a shell of a person, a shell that carried a pounding pearl emitting a burning heat, a pearl she had the impression was falling indefinitely in the depth of his two oceans, the only rope tying her to reality and keeping her from drowning being the tight knot in her stomach.

She was brought out of her haze by a sound, words apparently. She couldn't make out what they were at first, so the man made a second attempt. "Excuse me? Have… Have we met before?" his lips moved again, liberating his hoarse and yet soft and sweet tone, mingling despair and hope, hurt and affection.

The woman frowned at this and continued to stare at him. _Surely_ he must have felt something too. "I doubt I'd ever forget meeting you," She muttered before they quietly stared at each other and tried to decipher what exactly was happening right now.

He shook his head, as if he was trying to wake up from a dream, or going back to one. He then got off his porch and stayed a few feet away from the woman's car so he wouldn't frighten her. "Who are you? What are you doing here?" He asked, seeming almost unbelieving that she was standing in front of him.

"I'm Regina Mills, and I am looking for a certain Robin Locksley," She answered tentatively, getting a slight nod from the man who then made a few steps forward and offered his hand to her.

"At your service," He said and Regina stared at him, utter incomprehension taking possession of her. Her expression seemed to be reflected by him, awe and confusion forming in his features. She shook his hand and narrowed her eyes, trying to find an explanation to this impossible situation.

"Was your grandfather or great-grandfather named the same way?" She tried, getting a slightly amused smirk from the man in front of her.

"Are you doing a sort of weird census or looking for your roots?" he replied playfully, earning himself a frown from the brown haired woman. "I'm the only Robin Locksley, at least that I know of," He then answered more seriously.

Regina didn't respond, trying to process everything once again before the man broke her train of thought. "Do you want to come in and have a cup of tea?" He suggested politely. "After all, I believe we have a lot to talk about."

She didn't know what to do: say yes or say no. She had no idea who this man was – he could be a complete psychopath after all – but another part of her knew this was too strange to let go of. She couldn't leave this town without answers. So, with a slight nod, she accepted his offer.

Leading the way inside, Robin let her walk in first, keeping his manners although he was astounded to see this so familiar stranger in front of him. Regina looked around, making sure nothing looked too suspicious, but it seemed to be a rather normal and simple house. Few random objects were scattered here and there in the open rooms, but it was clean and welcoming from what she could see. Various canvases lay here and there, which reminded her of her own apartment.

He invited her to sit at the table and then turned around to prepare their beverage. Regina made sure to keep an eye on the two cups and to follow his hands to make sure he wouldn't try to pull a bad trick on her, but Robin made it pretty easy by not hiding anything from her.

"How did you get here?" He finally asked.

Apparently the woman from the dinner wasn't the only one who seemed to believe not many people came around here. "With my car," Regina replied with a shrug. Robin looked at her with raised eyebrows, expecting something else from her. "I just did some research and found the nearest art gallery I hadn't visited already," She then added, giving a more satisfying answer this time.

The thing was, she didn't expect to be the one interrogated. "I went to the see the exposition to get some inspiration for myself, and something hit me, something I didn't quite expect to see," She said, starting to play with one of the red apples in a bowl in the middle of the table. "If you really are the only Robin Locksley, then you must know what I'm talking about," She added, paying a specific attention to his facial expression and body language.

Robin took a deep breath and walked to the table, serving tea for the two of them before speaking. " _My Muse_ ," He answered, seeming desperate, as if he was talking about an old demon of his. The man then sat down in front of her and cupped his mug in his hands, feeling the warmth on his skin, trying to find comfort while he dealt with his ghosts. "I… I have no idea when I made it," He finally continued after a moment of silence.

"Well May 1902 is quite a long time ago, so you probably had the time to forget since then. You have to give me the name of your anti-aging cream by the way, it seems to work wonders," Regina snapped and tilted her head slightly, just wanting to hear the truth. She wasn't here to listen to crappy lies.

"Time doesn't move here," He retorted firmly and more quickly than Regina expected him tp. He didn't like when strangers came to his house, looking exactly like a portrait he did but had no memory of creating, and tried to be clever with questions he's been wondering forever. He was a little more on his guards, and Regina became a little less sharp as she noticed how serious he was.

"What do you mean time doesn't move?" She questioned in confusion, making the man take a deep breath before he answered.

"I mean no one here knows since when they've been living here. No one knows what day or time it is, except from the distinction of night and day. If you ask them about their past, they'll most likely answer vaguely."

"But you, of all people, are conscious of that," Regina clarified with raised eyebrows.

"Well I've been wondering about that painting for quite a long time and I tried to do my own research," He said with a shrug before taking a sip of tea. "And now, having you in front of me raises even more questions."

Regina pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. "How could you paint a perfect replica of me over a hundred years ago? I wasn't even born, for heaven's sake," She grumbled and put the apple back in the bowl before also taking a sip from her hot drink, discouraged at the lack of logicality and answers this situation had. She had hoped for clarifications, but now, they seemed to be two persons facing a dead end.

"What did you find out during your _many years_ of playing detective," she continued, trying to dig out more information.

Robin looked at her with raised eyebrows, as if he was trying to decided if he should tell her everything or not. The only thing he knew about her was her name and the face on a canvas he spent hours studying. It seemed enough to him.

"The mayor knows the answer, and–" He started, about to continue, but then frowned as a thought invaded his mind. He looked at the woman in front of him, wearing a serious expression while she showed a suspicious one. "Tell me about your past."

"What?" Regina reacted, thinking this was non-sense and slightly creepy. "Why do you want to know about my past?" She couldn't see how this was supposed to help them get to the bottom of their puzzlement.

"Just go on, please," He insisted, making Regina sigh. What a strange man he was. Was he mad? Well, this whole situation was non-sense after all and she couldn't see what she had to lose anymore.

"I always lived in Boston, had a simple life on my own with a rather steady routine. Just… normal, nothing special happened to me," She said with a shrug.

"What can you tell me about your youth?" He invited her to continue, making Regina frown again.

"I… I don't know. I went to high school and primary school before that, just like anybody," She answered vaguely with a shrug.

"Can you tell me a specific memory? Anything really, even if it's just you playing with a cat or something," Robin asked, looking too optimistic for Regina's liking.

She opened her mouth to answer, but nothing came out. Her own silence pushed her to look deeply inside her head, searching for a part of her past to grasp and hold on to. She stared at him, absolutely dumbfounded when she realized her mind was completely blank.

Robin smiled slightly, looking proud to have guessed right. "You said your last name was Mills, right?" He then asked, getting a nod from the woman as a confirmation. "To my knowledge, Mills isn't a common family name, don't you think?" He continued. Regina had no idea where he was going with this. "I just think it's a rather interesting coincidence that you and the mayor share the same last name, that's all," Robin clarified with an innocent shrug. He leaned back in his chair, staring at the embodied mystery in front of him and crossed his arms.

"What are you implying?" Regina asked firmly, getting tensed from his apparent satisfaction.

"Nothing, I just think it's rather… curious, don't you think?" He replied with raised eyebrows.

Regina stared at the man, trying to sort her ideas out, but it was so much to take in at once. "Okay, and what now? We just go to her and ask her how everyone, and maybe even myself, would have been here in the beginning of the 1900's? We'll be put in an asylum. I can't even believe all of this myself. This is just a bad prank and I'm done dealing with this fake crap," She grumbled, getting up to go back to her car.

"Wait," Robin stopped her without moving from his chair. "What if I told you all the paintings in the gallery have no dates on them. All of them, except this particular one; your portrait."

Regina stopped in front of the door and took a few seconds to think. _What the hell does all of this mean? This is insanity_ , she thought once more. The woman turned around and stared at the man, the hint of that feeling she got upon seeing him for the first time coming back to her. _Stop it, Mills. Get a hold of yourself, you're better than that_. "Come on," She finally mumbled, opened the door and nodded outside.

Robin knitted his brows in curiosity, but got up nonetheless. "Where do you want to go?" He asked her as they walked outside.

"The gallery."

###

The ride in Regina's car was filled with silence. He had had the time to form multiple theories and consider the impossible previously, but this was all new to her. He thought it was better to let her play with different ideas and try to ponder the unthinkable instead of talking about what else he thought was possible or ask questions about her.

"What about the paintings you remember doing?" Regina suddenly asked him after a few minutes.

Robin took a deep breath and rubbed his hands on his thighs. "Well, they look a lot like the other ones you saw, I guess," He said casually.

"And what about the woman? Is she in them too?" She pursued. She didn't know what she was looking for, or if she was looking for anything at all anymore, but she decided to ask the questions coming up inside her head nonetheless.

"Sometimes, sometimes not. It depends of my inspiration and my dreams," He muttered with a slight shrug.

Regina frowned slightly and looked at him. "Your dreams? What about them?"

Robin licked his lips and looked at the houses they passed quickly. "Well, there's nothing much to say about them. Some are more striking and vivid than the others, so I write them down and then I paint them when they inspire me, that's all."

The driver nodded slightly and kept quiet for a few seconds. "I like your technique and color study by the way," She commented softly.

Robin turned his head to look at her and smiled, observing her for an instant, more specifically the scar he recognized so well. "Thank you," He muttered, biting his lip and looking away again.

They finally arrived at their destination, got out of the car and walked inside, going straight to the canvas they both kept thinking about.

It was strange to Regina to face herself in a context she's never been in, or according to Robin's theory, a context she doesn't remember being in.

"So what do we do now?" Robin said, thinking he stood here so many times before.

However, it was only the second time for Regina. She stared at her painted eyes with pursed lips before admitting a small "I don't know" and then crossed her arms.

As they both stared at the framed artwork in front of them for a while, Robin decided to get a brown leather notebook from his pocket and handed it to Regina without a word. The woman frowned and slowly reached for it. "What is this?" She inquired. He let her open it to let her discover by herself, and when she did, she knitted her brows upon seeing a series of four lines crossed by a diagonal one, repeated over and over again on each page of the small notebook.

She looked back at him, this time her expression showing utter bewilderment. "This is how I keep track of time," He clarified quietly. "There was no way to know which day, month or year it was when I realized time never moved here, so I decided to count the days."

Regina held her breath and looked through the scribbled pages again, blown away by the amount of time this represented. "And how many days have you counted so far?"

"Well not enough to go back to 1902, that's for sure, but definitely a few years," He said and put his hands in his pockets.

The woman looked back at the painting with narrowed eyes, keeping the closed notebook on her hands and bringing it up to the level of her mouth. She looked at the small inscriptions with the artwork's information and the hint of a theory popped in her head. "What if… What if May 1902 isn't the actual date you painted this?" She mumbled, trying to see how - and if - this new hypothesis could work out.

"What? But look at the clothing and the details in other paintings confirm that some of them must have been made during that time period. There seems to have a huge part missing between the ones that seem the eldest and the newest, almost like a hundred years," He replied to her.

She looked around and noticed he was right, but she wasn't ready to abandon her idea just yet. "Indeed, but why is this the only one dated?" She told him with raised eyebrows. "Perhaps it was made in 1902, but perhaps… Perhaps this is meant to have another meaning," She continued.

"Like a hidden message?" He asked and Regina confirmed with a nod.

"Excuse me," A voice from behind them broke into their conversation, making the two improvised investigators turn around. An old lady with white hair tucked into a bun smiled softly at them. "We're closing," She said quietly, warmth emanating from her tone.

A frown appeared on her face when her focus shifted from the woman to the painting, realizing they were identical. A bigger smile suddenly lit her face up and she put her hand on Robin's arm. "What a lovely model you had, Robin. You should have brought her here before," The woman told him and then turned to Regina once more. "You two are absolutely charming together."

Regina raised her eyebrows at this and opened her mouth to clarify they weren't a couple and Robin simply gave her an amused and embarrassed smirk. "Thank you, Ellie," He said, Regina scowling and turning her head to look at him disapprovingly. "We'll let you do your job," The man said and took the notepad from Regina's hand before leading the way out.

"What the hell was that about?" Regina asked incredulously once they passed the door.

"I just saved us at least ten minutes of fruitless explanations. It was either we go with it or we try to explain to her that we think we time-traveled, lost our memories and that we were just looking to find how all of this might have happened. As you said before: that would get us a free pass in the nearby asylum," He went on, his eyebrows raised since he knew he was right.

Regina rolled her eyes, but didn't argue. He did have a point after all.

"Besides," He continued. "It makes sense considering the title of that painting."

Regina stopped walking in front of the driver's door, her hand on the handle when she looked at him with a serious expression. "Do you think… Well in the past, if there was a past, that is, do you think we were a thing?" She asked, the moment they locked eyes for the first time coming back to her conscience.

Robin shrugged and put his arm on the top of the car. "I don't know. From the clues we have, probably," He answered honestly. They stared at each other for a moment, contemplating the possibilities - and impossibilities - that could tie them together.

Clearing her throat, she broke their eye contact by looking away and getting in her car. He followed and closed the passenger's door. "So? May 1902? What do you think it stands for?".

"I don't know. I hoped you would have an idea, perhaps from other hints connected to your other hypotheses," She admitted with a shrug as she started the car. Everything about this was so surreal. She hoped to wake up from this dream soon, because as intriguing as it was at first, and still is, this seemed to imply so much more than it looked like and it was rather intimidating.

"Let's go back home then and see what I have there and we can come back here tomorrow," He replied casually as Regina got out of the parking.

"Couldn't we have stayed a little more? I mean, a good third of the artwork in there is yours, and that lady seems to have a soft spot for you," Regina murmured, slightly annoyed she'd have to extend her stay in this strange town.

"Ellie does have a soft spot for me, but she follows the rules perfectly An alteration to them would have been signalled to the mayor, and we don't want Cora to know we might have something to discover what she's hiding," Robin responded, getting a sigh from Regina.

"Is she really that awful? I mean, if we're actually related, she'd probably tell me everything, no?" She asked, knowing it was stupid to believe that, but, honestly, she just wanted to know the truth as soon as possible. She just wanted to know how this bad joke was all set up, although she had no idea why anyone would put so much effort to mess around with her.

"You don't know her," The man replied, and it was enough for the both of them to be left with their own thoughts as they made their way back to Robin's house.

###

From the building across the street stood someone in a wide window, staring at the car driving away. The passengers were completely oblivious of the wave of shock they caused in the womanly figure observing them. From excitement to worry, from anxiety to relief, the paradoxical feelings invading her overwhelmed her while she needed her head to be clear so she could come up with a plan to keep everything she had, but also to get back everything she once lost.

A man slowly walked behind her, wearing a devilishly satisfied smirk. He leaned just above her shoulder to whisper in her ear a small, but so meaningful, "she's here".


	3. Chapter 2

**I apologize for the long wait for this chapter (writer's block and life happen to everyone after all). The reviews I had for this verse are blowing my mind and I want to thank you so much for them. Please continue to share your thoughts and theories with me, I love reading them so much.**

 **Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

 _Storybrooke, Maine  
_ _April 1901_

 _The stables and the forest were her two favourite piece of heaven. Being a rather lonely girl, she loved to get away from the prison that was her house and the claws of her mother by taking a simple stroll in the green trails behind her backyard, and when she needed company, horses proved to be her best confidents._

 _On a cold Wednesday evening, Regina Mills escaped in the labyrinth of trees. Her long coat slightly brushed the ground and puffs of smoke escaped from her lips as the cold air made it's way to her lungs. After her mother's last speech about being a true lady ended, she felt the need to cool down and deal with her emotions by herself and freely. Regina, you can't say that kind of thing. Voicing your disagreement in such a way is rude to our guests and you lose all the respect you managed to earn with so much difficulty. Cora's voice still echoed inside her head. It was horrible and her most intense desire at the moment was to make it stop._

 _Unfortunately, all her thoughts were directed at how her mother wanted her to sit with her mouth shut, be pretty and let her do all the manipulations behind her back. Appearances gave you credibility, credibility gave you recognition, and recognition gave you power. It was a simple equation in her mother's mind, one Cora had tried to get in her daughter's head since she was born._

 _Fortunately, Regina thought, the apple fell far from the tree. She was nothing like her mother, or at least she hoped so. The young woman with long raven hair couldn't care less about power and dreamed about freedom, although according to Cora, power was freedom, and that was where there was a clash between the two women. Regina didn't need all her mother constantly harassed her for, and most importantly, she didn't want any of it. Dreams about riding off on her favorite horse, far from all the responsibilities her mother piled on her shoulders while reminding her to keep her back straight and smile were common in the young woman's mind._

 _Dreams of hope, dreams of happiness._

 _And it's as she was once again losing herself in these dreams that her life almost ended -or started, if you will._

 _An arrow slit the air in two, making her suddenly stop in her tracks, and the weapon struck the tree to her left. A dramatic gasp left her mouth as she took in the wooden stick inches from her eyes, inches from her brain. As loudly as her heart was beating in her chest, she could have sworn it had stopped for a few seconds beforehand._

 _Movements were heard on her right and she quickly turned her head to take conscience of the origin of the threat to her life. Her breath caught in her throat once more as she discovered her assailant._

 _Blue seas submerged her with a piercing, apologetic glare and the sound of two words replaced the echoes of her mother's lessons._

 _"Apologies milady."_

###

The drive back to Robin's house was a quiet one since the two passengers were deep in their thoughts. They arrived at their destination rather quickly and once Regina parked her car in the driveway, Robin looked at her. His blue eyes were always so impressive, like they could somehow see through her façade.

"Would you like to stay for dinner?" He asked gently. Regina wasn't expecting such an offer.

"Oh, hum, thank you for your invitation but I think I'll go back in town and get a room before I eat anything," she declined politely with a slight tilt of her head.

"Well it's up to you, but I think two heads are better than one to resolve this strange situation. And besides, I rarely have the opportunity to share a bottle of wine with someone," the man replied, a charming smirk forming dimples on his cheeks.

Regina smiled back and stared at him, considering his offer again more seriously. Pushing a strand of hair away from her face, she took a deep breath before she answered: "Only if it's red wine, and no Cabernet-Sauvignon."

Robin's smirk widened and he bit his lip at his guest's response. "Pinot noir or Syrah it is then, the choice is yours," He said before opening the door to get out.

Regina stopped the car and followed his lead. Sure she was confused and intrigued by this whole mess, so it would be a great opportunity to discover everything as soon as possible, but she'd be lying if she told herself she didn't think the man was rather handsome. The idea that something might have happened between them in the past troubled her however. How could none of them remember anything? How could she even have been here before?

Pushing her questions aside, she walked in the house behind him and closed the door. "So, what do you think of Storybrooke so far?" He asked from the kitchen as he got two glasses of wine out.

Regina took a deep breath and put her hands on the back of the dinner table's chair in front of her. "I think it's... familiarly strange," she said, taking a few seconds to think about her answer before speaking. "Didn't expect that from a small town in Maine," she confessed with raised eyebrows, now realizing how tired she was.

"What did you expect then?" He asked. He got out the bottles he previously talked about and let Regina point the one she wanted. She went

"I don't know, not my face in a gallery that is making me say and think stuff completely lacking of sense," she answered spontaneously, making him chuckle.

"Never expected that to happen either," he admitted and finally opened the bottle. He poured two glasses and handed one to his guest. "To the truth," he said and lifted his glass.

"To the truth," Regina repeated as she clinked her glass with his.

###

 _Regina stared in complete shock at the man in front of her. "What the hell! You could have killed me!" She exclaimed as she pulled on the arrow in the trunk to get it out of her face._

 _"I'm sorry, I thought you were a deer. Are you okay?" the man replied quickly and walked closer._

 _"Yes, but you certainly should have your eyesight checked," Regina snapped. "And you definitely shouldn't be allowed to play with pointy sticks."_

 _The man smirked slightly at that and took a deep breath. "I truly am sorry, milady," he muttered sincerely in an accent that was definitely not from here. "Now, may I have my arrow back please?" He asked gently, not wanting to overstep his boundaries._

 _Regina stared at him, pursing her lips at his request. After a few seconds of hesitation, she finally let the arrow fall in his palm. "Careful with that next time," she muttered to him, about to turn around and walk away. Her heart wouldn't calm down and she tried to blame it on the fright he just gave her._

 _"What does a stunning lady like you do wandering around the forest just before dawn?" His voice stopped her from leaving his sight. Regina raised her eyebrows at him, taken aback by his blunt and yet caring question._

 _"That's... none of your business," The woman replied and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before crossing her arms._

 _"Fair enough," he replied, not wanting to push her away. "Enchanted to meet you, mysterious forest lady." He put his arrow in his stealth and extended his hand for her to shake. "I'm Robin. Robin of Locksley."_

 _Regina observed his hand for a second, trying to decide whether she should shake it or not. This Robin had almost ended her life after all. But there was something else, another feeling tying her gut together, a glimmer in his eyes she could have gazed into for longer than what was considered appropriate. There was something new sinking in her, and she couldn't help but let the roots sink in her heart. And besides, she could use the distraction he offered._

 _"I'm Regina."_

###

Once dinner was ready, they both sat face to face at the wooden table. Although the conversation flowed easily between them previously, a silence fell in the room once they started to eat.

"So… Memory loss and time travel are our best bets so far?" Regina broke the ice with raised eyebrows, getting a nod from the man across the table. "This is complete non-sense," the woman grumbled. She had a hard time accepting this crazy theory might be reality.

"Trust me, I know. You kind of accept it after a while, because honestly, I don't know what's the explanation to all of this," He paused, staring in her chocolate eyes before making a confession. "I have to admit seeing you as a real person is rather... overwhelming."

Regina frowned at his words and looked at him with narrowed eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I spent many years alone and wondering about weird theories about time travels and amnesia and I kept everything to myself so everyone else wouldn't think I was going mad, although even I doubted it sometimes. Seeing you makes it all real and worth it, although it brings a thousand more questions and worries," He answered sincerely.

She listened intently, trying to figure out what he must have felt during all this time. She concluded it must have been quite a burden. "How have you come to terms with it?"

"Honestly, I haven't," he started. "You just kind of have to go with it and stop trying to see what does or doesn't makes sense. That's often when I found important puzzle pieces."

Regina nodded at his answer and took a sip of wine, thinking she should probably listen to his advice. "Other than theorizing about what on Earth happened here, what do you do with your time?" To hell with strange circumstances. They might as well try to get to know each other like normal people would, and letting what brought them together come first wasn't a good way to discover who he was.

"Well obviously I paint, but apart from that, I work as a handyman, I take care of the town's library from time to time and I give classes of archery to adults and kids."

She didn't know what she expected, but she was slightly surprised, and maybe even impressed by his answer. "I hope your aim is good then if you teach kids how to use a bow."

"Oh, I never miss, milady," He replied with a smirk and a glimmer in his eyes.

Regina raised her eyebrows at this, amused and rather doubtful this was close to the truth. "Never?"

"Never. Unless I want to," he answered playfully with an innocent shrug.

"Well someone's confident," Regina smirked before taking a sip of wine.

"Just honest. I could show you sometime, perhaps even teach you a trick or two."

"I don't plan on staying here for long. I have a final project to work on and I don't want this weird... thing, whatever it is, to get in the way of my diploma."

Taking the opportunity, the man decided to turn the tables and now be the one who asked questions about her life. "So you're an art major, right? What made you to choose that course?"

Regina smiled slightly at this question. She's been asked that at least a million times before. "Passion, of course, and I've always wanted to do something where I could express myself without any justification," She first said. "It was either that or law studies, which would have been the complete opposite, but I followed my heart instead of my head. And now here I am, with no precise plan of what comes next, but I find it doesn't really matter. I know I'll manage, I'm good at what I do. The industry might be tough, but I'm tougher."

Listening intently and keeping an intense gaze at the artist speaking in front of him, Robin couldn't help but flash his dimples with a slight smirk at the last words he heard. "And you claimed I was too confident?"

"Who said confidence was a bad thing?" She tactfully retorted.

"Good point." He admitted before taking a sip of wine. "I would like to see some of your creations. It would only be fair considering you could appreciate a couple of mine."

Regina took a deep breath, contemplating her options for a few seconds. She had nothing to be ashamed or shy of, but she knew showing him her paintings would bring a part of her walls down, letting him get to a certain part of her. "I guess I could show you a thing or two," She finally muttered before also lifting her glass to her lips.

"You guess? Oh come on, Regina, you have to play fair."

For some reason, she noted how her name sounded when it escaped from his mouth. She liked the soft, natural sound of it.

"Do I?" She replied with an eyebrow raised, trying not to get distracted by how handsome and charming he was.

"Oh come on, do I have to beg?" He asked with raised eyebrows.

"Could be a good idea, indeed."

With a sigh, Robin stared at her for a few seconds, letting silence fill the room to increase the impact of his words. "Regina Mills, would you please care to show me some of your work? I am intrigued to see your style and talent, which I am sure you do not lack, and I would like to see if you're better than me."

"You bet I am, archer," Regina said quickly, grinning confidently. She loved this little competition growing between them. She was always one to play this kind of game.

"I have to admit I'm also quite tired of seeing the same paintings over and over again." He added with a nod.

"Of course you are, especially since you fill up about a third of that gallery." She mumbled with a roll of her eyes.

"Well it's not like if you didn't appreciate it." He answered, never losing a beat, and he filled the two glasses of wine.

Smirking, Regina stared at him and crossed her legs under the table. He was quite the player too apparently, and she loved it. "Good point." She gave in after a few seconds. "Alright, I'll show you some of my stuff, but simply because you made me a pretty good dinner."

Robin leaned back in his chair with a triumphant smile. He never expected today, but how good it was to have something finally happening in his long, boring life. He appreciated the woman's company, enjoyed to see her smile, liked to discover the person she was. How strange it was to see his painting come to life. "Deal," He muttered.

They thought less and less about the forgotten past that united them and got carried away in normal conversations and occasional flirting. There was something subtle growing between them, intensifying their natural bond, perhaps only noticeable by the secret flutters of their hearts and the heat rising up to their cheeks from one compliment to the other joke.

###

Conversation continued to flow seamlessly and charming smiles were exchanged until there were only empty plates left on the table. Getting up from their seats, they walked to the living room and Regina narrowed her eyes when she saw the tall bookshelf on the right wall. "Are these the same notebooks as the one you showed me earlier? Do they all count the days that passed that you were aware of?" She crossed her arms and observed dozens of identical leather bindings on the shelves, amongst a few literary classics. Of course, he was a Shakespeare fan.

Robin took a deep breath at her question and stood a little behind her, also looking at the rows of brown notebooks. "They do," He sighed, sounding completely desperate, almost hopeless, but definitely tired.

Regina turned to look at him with wide eyes, sporting a frown and a slightly opened mouth. "But... you should be dead by now," She mumbled, to which Robin simply nodded and said he already knew that. Letting out a huff of air, she looked at the small books again. "How many days do they represent exactly?"

Putting his hands in his pockets, Robin muttered a small "Above a hundred years, to put it simply." He took a moment to think about each of these repetitive days, where he was stuck with mild knowledge of a paranormal situation while everyone else around him was completely oblivious of anything strange going on. A hundred years of loneliness, a hundred years of thinking he might have lost his head, a hundred years of waiting, but waiting for what exactly? That he didn't know, had not a single clue, until today. "Trust me, keeping those up to date is rather depressing," He added before walking towards his window and looking at the lake in his backyard.

Regina turned slightly to look at him, sensing how he had just fallen a little deeper in his thoughts. She didn't know why, but she felt slightly hurt for him. Unbeknownst to her, empathy was dangerously flirting with sympathy, and how hazardous was that considering sympathy leads to care? "I can only imagine," She mumbled gently.

Turning his head to look at her, they locked eyes for a few seconds, sharing confusion and understanding. There was something there, something strange lingering in the depth of their eyes, tying them together with an unusual strength. They both felt it, and they both tried to brush it off.

"Robin," Regina started and walked closer to him. "I know this must have been hard for you during all this time, but I really, really need you to tell me everything you know, everything you discovered and everything you thought could explain this."

"That would take a very, very long time," He replied before she could finish.

Regina sighed at his words and stared in his blue seas. "You still have to show me everything. I deserve it, and so do you," She tried to convince him. "Besides, you said it yourself: we have much better chances to find out the truth if we work together

"Regina, I know this must seem completely crazy and that you're suspicious, I get it, I've been there. But please, you've got to help me on this. I've looked for answers all these years, and I still feel like I have close to nothing. Your arrival is the biggest progress I recorded in at least the last ten years. If we work together, I'm sure we can make it," He said desperately.

Regina opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She could feel how deep these words came from, how he meant everything, how important it was to him, like he was lost and begged for a lighthouse to find his way back home. "Robin, I…" She started.

"Please, Regina," He insisted when he heard the reluctance in her voice.

She was the last hope he had left.

Staring at him silently, she pondered her options, how messy and complicated this all was. "I can't promise you anything, Robin," She finally told him. "But, I'll go get a room for the night at the bed and breakfast in town, and we'll continue our… investigation tomorrow, and then we'll see."

A sigh escaped him and a relieved smile made his dimples appear once more. "Thank you," He muttered. "You won't regret it."

"Can't say my little trip wasn't worth it so far," She replied with a slightly mischievous smile, earning a smirk from him.

"I tend to have that effect on women," He joked, trying to lighten the mood.

"I was talking about the paintings," She replied with a light chuckle.

"Of course you were," He said, putting his hands in his pockets and raising his eyebrows at her with a smug grin.

She kept her eyes on him, a calculated silence filled the room with unspoken desire. She let the feeling take place, one very similar to the sensation that invaded her once their eyes locked for the first time. It was strange, mysterious and appealing, but there was something more than simple attraction, something special tingling in the air, pulling them closer somehow.

With a blink of her eyes, she got out of her haze and his blue gaze, she realized how the distance between them had lessened considerably. Taking a deep breath, she broke their eye contact but didn't step back. "I should go before it's too late. I don't want to sleep in my car after all," She muttered.

Robin nodded and cleared his throat at Regina's words, also slightly unsettled. "You're right, you should go before Granny gets in bed." Both agreed, and yet, both refused to make a move. The situation brought smirks on their faces, Robin rubbing the back of his neck and Regina biting her lips with the hope that her cheeks weren't too red.

"Before you go, you need to keep that promise though," Robin intervened, making Regina look at him again with a questioning expression and raised eyebrows. "Show me something you created," He clarified. His interest in her work was rather flattering, and although he probably knew that, his smile was so genuine, so honest, she knew he wasn't just playing around. He sincerely wanted to discover the artist in her, and that made her appreciate him even more.

"I never promised I'd do it," She replied, not letting any of her thoughts crack her expression and she turned to walk towards the door, knowing he'd follow.

"Fair enough, but I believe you're a woman of honour and you'll do as you said, promises or not," Robin said as they walked outside.

Damn, he was good.

"Careful with your assumptions. You have no idea who you're dealing with." She fished her keys out of her pocket and walked to her car with determination and a hint of anticipation.

"Well I do hope to have enough time to discover the many faces of the mysteriously complex Regina Mills." His words caught her attention and she slowed down her pace. Yes, this was very charming from him, but something else pulled at her gut. As the words left his mouth, it sounded so… familiar, like she had already heard it before, perhaps in a dream. Oh, but who was she to say what belonged to reality or the kingdom of slumber now, after all these messed up, complicated and utterly crazy hints of a scavenger hunt she discovered today, one that seemed bigger than life itself?

"Is everything alright?" His voice pulled her out of her thoughts once more, grounding her back to the here and now. She cleared her throat and decided to act as if nothing happened. Mumbling a small "I'm fine", she opened the trunk of her car and revealed a few canvases she had planned on bringing to school but had decided to leave there for her own improvised field trip beforehand. The first one she revealed pictured a brown horse with a white spot on its muzzle, its face being the main focus of the piece although only about the quarter of it was missing due to the way she framed it.

Raised eyebrows and pursed lips appeared on Robin's face. "Well I was confident you were talented, but I did not expect a technique similar to Degas', although the composition is very modern and the contrast increased," He commented. "I like it."

Regina found herself completely pleased with the comment he offered to her. Compose yourself, Mills.

She got the second canvas out and realized this one made her a little more nervous since it wasn't her best work, but it still held a special place in her heart. She turned it to properly show it to him, but his reaction was nothing like she expected.

His face fell. His jaw slacked. His eyes widened.

"That's the clock tower over the library," He breathed.

"What?" Regina exclaimed with a frown, looking back at her creation in complete confusion.

"There's no doubt, it really is the clock in the middle of the town. You even painted the exact time it's always been stuck at." He rushed and she was left to stare at a canvas she made weeks ago, with no reference, completely oblivious of the unconscious meaning it held. She was speechless, and really, was there a reason not to believe him anymore?

"So you produced pieces you don't remember creating, and I painted something I don't remember seeing," She mumbled. "Great."

Robin looked at her, animated by a new energy. "But this is good news Regina. It confirms that you've been here before and that there is a way to put all the pieces together," He told her, putting a hand on her shoulder. "It's a sign of hope, a sign we can do this together."

Regina gulped and stared in his eyes once more, pondering all the motivation and faith he was bearing. That's when she noticed, not only did he have faith in his theories and the resources they both brought, but he had faith in her too. How scary, intimidating, but incredibly touching was that?

"I…" She started, but couldn't find what to say, what to tell him, what to answer. She was clueless. What was she supposed to do? It all was so frightening. But as frightening as it seemed to be, the desire to discover the truth was stronger, and besides, Regina wasn't one to let fear overcome her. "Let's make it our first lead tomorrow morning then," She finally managed, seeming determined, but the weight of the day heavy on her shoulders. "I really should get some sleep. I can't think straight anymore."

At her words, Robin seemed to remember to breathe and he gave her a slight smile, flashing his dimples at her. "Alright," He agreed. "Are you sure you're okay to go back by yourself?" He asked and Regina nodded.

"Yes. The wine's long gone and I remember where the bed and breakfast is."

"Alright, well, call me if you need anything," He said to her with a slight tilt of his head.

Regina smirked at this, placing the canvases back correctly in her trunk. "I doubt I'll need it, but for that to work, I'd need to actually have your number in the first place."

"Oh, right," Robin muttered, now realizing he hadn't gave it to her. He scoffed and got his leather notepad out of his pocket along with a pen. He scribbled his phone number, ripped the small page and handed it to her. "There you go, milady."

"Thank you, sir," She said playfully, unable to stop the smile growing on her face.

They stood there, sharing one last silent look that said so much. Although a massive phenomenon brought them together, the subtleties constantly flowing between them was what felt just right.. It was what made her comfortable and kept her from freaking out and losing her mind. "Alright, goodnight, Robin," She finally muttered with a sweeter voice than she expected and she moved towards the driver's door. He was faster than her and he opened it for her. Regina was thankful it was getting dark, otherwise he would have probably noticed the slight flush of her cheeks.

"Goodnight, Regina," He mumbled, holding the door open for her as she got in her car. "See you tomorrow."

"Eight in front of the gallery?" She suggested, getting a nod from him before he repeated her words in agreement with her.

With one last goodbye, he closed her door and she started her car, slowly pulling out of the driveway, and he watched her leave.

###

 _What started as a desperate run to escape the claws of her obligations ended up in a slow stroll in the woods, smiles becoming easier as footsteps were taken and personalities were showing their first few sparks. As time flew by, she discovered he was a free spirited man, something she envied with all her heart. Nothing seemed to hold him back. She had never seen him around before since he had just arrived from Europe, the oh so refined continent her mother kept on daydreaming about. That would be the only thing she appreciated about her new friend, a man who couldn't care less about social status, but about social inequalities, a man who followed his heart instead of the obligations put upon him._

 _His decision to jump on a the ship to come to the other side of the sea had been a rebellious, improvised act, but one he did not regret in the slightest, he told her. "My parents wanted me to become a lawyer, and I almost did since I thought I could help those who really needed it, change the social hierarchy one case at a time, but it wasn't me. Too bureaucratic," He had told her. "Although I considered the option, I quickly rejected it, decided to follow my first plan and take my chances as an artist."_

 _"An artist?" She repeated, sounding a little surprised._

 _"An artist, indeed," He confirmed. "Doesn't get you much gold, especially since my parents completely disowned me and made sure they weren't associated with me in way, so I decided to make it easier for them and move here," He explained casually._

 _"But wasn't it difficult?"_

 _"Didn't say it wasn't, but it was for the best," He answered with a shrug. "I have come to believe that if those who claim to love you can't accept who you are, then they don't really, truly love you." He reflected wisely, the words echoing in her head and twisting her guts. As quickly as she tried to swallow her feelings, he hadn't failed to notice her uneasiness._

 _"Is everything alright?" He asked with concern and she nodded quickly._

 _"Yes, I was just thinking about how we were this strange sort of similar opposites, that's all," She muttered with a slight shrug, letting her paradoxical words sink in his soul to let his imagination wander to all the meaning possible behind the hint of a confession she just gave him. In the last hour, they had barely talked about her, or at least she always found a way to avoid talking about her._

 _"You know, I used to paint a lot when I was young," She finally shared something from her life, although he figured it was probably to avoid addressing something she didn't want to reveal. "Mother kept on saying a proper lady's place wasn't behind a canvas, but much rather in front of one," She added quietly._

 _"So you stopped?" He asked, curious and slightly baffled._

 _"She thinks I did, but I have some hidden material in my room and in the stables," She confessed with a smirk and pulled a strand of hair behind her ear before crossing her arms over her chest._

 _Smirking, Robin nodded slightly and observed her. "I'm glad to hear that," He mumbled, making her look at him and offer him a such a gentle, innocent smile._

 _"Speaking of, I need to go before she finds out I'm not home," She told the archer who gave an understanding nod in return. "It was nice to talk with you," She muttered, forbidding herself to add something about the relief she felt to finally talk to someone who didn't expect her to look pretty and keep her mouth shut._

 _"Likewise," He replied and bowed slightly. "I can't wait until our paths cross again."_

 _Regina raised her eyebrows and took a deep breath. "I don't think it will be happening again," She replied, trying to suppress the twinge of disappointment in her stomach. She wanted to see him again, badly, even just to get away from the repressing hell she was enduring every day, but she knew it would be playing with fire. Robin Locksley was, as far as she could tell from the short amount of time they had spent together, a good man, and he did not deserve to have his life ruined by the Mills family._

 _"I wouldn't be so sure about that, milady," He added, looking confident, but without a glimpse of malice and smugness showing his eyes._

 _"And may I know why you think so, Mr. Locksley?" She retorted with raised eyebrows, using a firm tone, trying to convince herself this was for the best._

 _"Well I do hope to have enough time to discover the many faces of the mysteriously complex Regina Mills."_

 _Not once had he pushed her to talk about subjects she did not wish to address, always respecting the walls she had built, as if he understood there was a reason they were there in the first place, something most people failed to observe and respect. For that, she was infinitely grateful. The fact that she hadn't pushed him away amazed her even more, and she couldn't hide the red shade that started to tint her cheeks._

 _"Goodnight, Robin," She muttered, unable to say a proper goodbye. Her hopes were too high, although her reason screamed at her not to feed them, but what could she do when it was too late?_

 _"Goodnight, Regina," He mumbled before she turned and quickly made her way in the trails. And although she didn't noticed, he watched her leave hurriedly with the certitude that their story wasn't over._

###

The ride back in town was one where Regina tried to clear her head by focusing on nothing but the road. It didn't work as much as she wished it would have, and all the work she had done to try to get in that state of mind disappeared when she noticed the clock over the library. How could she have missed it the first time she passed here?

Robin was right, it was the exact same as her painting.

Despair hit her and she parked on the side of the street, gripping the steering wheel tightly and laying her forehead against it. "This is madness," She whispered tiredly. She was exhausted, completely worn out, and she needed a moment to let the world stop spinning around her, to let herself find North again. A feeling of emptiness and powerlessness seized her, and no, focus on your breathing, you'll get through this, see the end of it, and everything's overwhelming right now because you desperately need sleep. Get a hold of yourself, Mills.

A few more seconds passed before she finally got out of her car, grabbing her bag with extra clothes she always left in her backseat "just in case" and her sketchpad before heading to the Bed and Breakfast. She entered, a bell ringing as soon as she opened the door. On cue, the same lady from this morning walked behind the desk a few seconds later and looked at her with raised eyebrows. "Well, well, you're still in town?"

"Apparently," Regina replied and put her hands in her pockets. "I'd like a room for the night."

Granny seemed surprised, but quickly started to go through her papers while going off about something Regina couldn't find in herself to listen to. She nodded a few times and looked at the old lady preparing everything. "Now, what's the name again?"

"Mills, Regina Mills."

"Regina," She heard from behind, making her turn to see who had joined them. A slender man, dressed in a suit was standing behind her, wearing an all too knowing smirk, and how weird was it that she didn't hear the bell ring when he came in. She shook the thought away by blaming her inattention on exhaustion. "What a lovely name," He added.

"Thanks," She replied simply. Without really knowing what else to say, she turned back to Granny to finish the payment while the man apparently kept a grin plastered on his face. To her surprise, the other woman was holding a roll of bills right under her nose.

"It's all here," She said as boney fingers reached for the money.

"Yes, of course it is, dear. Thank you," The man mumbled and looked at Regina again. "You enjoy your stay, Regina," He told her, taking a few seconds before saying her name in a low voice. He left and Regina thought there was something about this man she didn't particularly like. He seemed to know far too much, but maybe that was what she needed right now: someone who knew.

"Who's that?" She asked the innkeeper curiously.

"Mr. Gold," The lady behind the desk answered. "He owns this place."

"The inn?"

"No, the town." The tone used by Granny showed clear dislike and annoyance, and Regina noted that she probably should be careful around this Mr. Gold. Taking a deep breath, the innkeeper changed the subject and asked: "So, how long will you be with us?"

"A night. Just a night." Regina confirmed, but also tried to convince herself apparently.

"Great." The woman said, suddenly looking much more welcoming and friendly than before. Offering a warm smile, she gave the key to Regina.

"Welcome to Storybrooke."


End file.
